


There's a Good Reason These Tables Are Numbered, Honey.

by disarmingly



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, I promise, M/M, and levi's got a potty mouth, country club au, erwin wears golf clothes, i don't even fucking care i needed this, they gonna do the do
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-10
Updated: 2014-07-10
Packaged: 2018-02-08 05:26:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1928304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/disarmingly/pseuds/disarmingly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Levi hates his job.</p><p>But when some asshole golfing adonis comes up to him at the pool, he figures maybe this summer won't be as bad as he thought.</p>
            </blockquote>





	There's a Good Reason These Tables Are Numbered, Honey.

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first fic I've written in a really long time so be gentle with me! :c I've also never worked at a country club before, and while I did ask a few friends who have, there's still a chance I missed something so feel free to let me know if there are any huge errors.
> 
> Eruri is my lifeblood so I hope I did them justice. 
> 
> Comments and kudos always appreciated ♥
> 
> (title credit goes to both panic at the disco and becca)

Levi hates his job.

This is a fact that he will, and does, tell anyone who will listen. Every single day.

"I hate this shit ass job."

Today marked day thirteen, he realized, sliding into the passenger seat of Hanji's clunker moments before he started off their morning conversation of "I really fucking hate everything about this."

Hanji just laughed, like always, and he still can't tell if it's because she finds the repetition of his hatred amusing or if it's just another one of her screws falling lose. "It's just for the summer."

Levi frowned, sunk down into the cushion of the seat, and she sped off towards the end of the street. By now, Levi's almost at the point of wishing that her brakes would go out, so that when they reach the light at the intersection they can just keep rolling and die before they make it to work.

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?" He asked.

Hanji hummed thoughtfully, the turn only  _kind_ of making Levi want to puke now. "No, but the money is."

She's right, of course. The money is good. Or, well, Levi would give it a  _decent_ but that's better than his warehouse gig, which had been the only other option for the summer until Hanji had approached him with a proposition.

One summer, middle of May to the beginning of September, five days a week, Wednesday through Sunday, with an extra day off every other week, six fucking thirty in the morning until what they said was midnight, but really could be whenever they could pry the kids out of the pool. There have been three nights so far that the two of them haven't made it out of those stupid gates until two, and from the way Hanji talked, that was normal.

She skidded around the next corner to the sounds of honking horns and a couple of nasty comments out windows, and Hanji waved. Levi closed his eyes and wished he could sleep, just once, during their thirty minute drive. But Hanji took the silence as a cue to start talking.

"So I overheard Mrs. Anderson talking about her anxiety attack last week." Mrs. Anderson was one of Hanji's favorite member's wives, a crazy woman. Actually crazy. Thinks her two pet poodles (the only dogs allowed on club property) are smarter than every man, including her husband. Not surprising why she got along with Hanji, really, considering where they both sit along the mentally stable line. "Apparently the gardener from two houses down kept looking at her through her kitchen window. She said she couldn't eat for  _three days_ ." Levi didn't need to open his eyes to know how wide Hanji's were with excitement. Her knuckles were probably turning white on the steering wheel.

Twenty more minutes and they'd be at the club.

"It's just incredible to me how such minute details in her life throw her _whole_ schedule off balance! It's like if you inserted a single grain of sand onto a race track and it throws the driver off enough to spin out of control. She is so in tune with _every detail of her life_ -"

Levi isn’t surprised anymore with the things Hanji found interesting. She'd been working this job since high school, every summer. The wives who frequented the pool love her - crazy loves crazy, apparently - and it has given her a powerful enough position to pull strings for him. To get him in and a job and a sweet deal as far as pool-side responsibilities go.

_"Just don't screw this up._ " Was all Hanji had said, uncharacteristically serious.  _"We can work this if you just listen to what I say, okay?"_

Working This turned out to be keeping Levi as far away from as many members as physically possible. They work pool-side service; which, depending on the day and the crowd, could include anything from waiting, bussing, folding towels, moving chairs, managing umbrellas, picking up toys, cleaning messes (Levi still can't get over how much shit - more often than he would like, quite literally - that they put up with) and doing whatever little errand the members could think up.

Hanji, apparently, is some champion pool-side waitress - able to wait up to fifteen different tables, while keeping conversations with half of them, at the same time she's carrying a tray for the other half and avoiding the four year olds playing pirates around her feet. She gets good tips, the kind of tips the members don't write down on the receipt, and Levi can see why.

Levi, on the other hand, has this problem.

Hanji says he just hasn't gotten the hang of it, the manager says it's a lack of social skills, and the kids say it's his face.

Namely, something  _about_ his face that is both uninviting and completely unsuited for the level of hospitality expected from all those employed by the Maria Heights Country Club. It's a wonder he's made it this long, but he's got a sneaking suspicion that it's due to the fact he seems to be the only pool-side employee who can actually fold a towel.

After the first week and a half, they figured out a system- Hanji dealt with the members, Levi dealt with the petty errands, bussing, towel-folding, and picking up toys. The manager doesn't complain because of the success this system seems to bring to the quality of service, and Hanji splits her tips with him at the end of the week.

Levi especially doesn't mind, because it means that during any kind of down-time (usually somewhere between eight and eleven), he can steal away to the Towel Stand - a small booth in the back corner of the pool area. Levi deemed it his own the first day he walked back and found the shelves in complete disarray, needing his immediate folding attention. The best part is that if he could keep himself busy back there, no one would come find him, as long as he was back out doing rounds once the traffic started to pick up again.

This morning started off well enough- parking in the back corner of the lot near the construction equipment, pulling up all the umbrellas and refilling the towel stations by each side of the larger pool and kiddy pool, lugging the water, lemonade and sweet tea jugs to their places around the seating area, and rolling about a hundred silverware packets. As far as Levi could tell, the day would be like any other. Hot, uncomfortable, mildly annoying.

By ten thirty Levi was at the Towel Stand, crouched low to escape the sun and rearranging the stacks of towels. The collar of his forest green polo was already starting to itch from the beads of sweat building on the back of his neck, and Levi wondered for what felt like the hundredth time why they couldn't make the uniforms out of something a lighter.

"Excuse me."

It's sudden, unexpected, and Levi just nearly curses at how it briefly catches him off-guard- biting the inside of his lip to hold it back. "Towels are in the baskets near the pool." An automatic response, and one that usually ends up working with members that try to approach him. He doesn't want to see whoever it is who is standing right outside of his little safe haven, and he doesn't want to be asked to run up to the clubhouse. If this guy would just  _go away_ -

"I'm actually not looking for a towel."

_Fuck_ .

Levi takes a breath and moves to stand, forgoing the smile he knows the manager will get on his case about later. "Then what are you-"

He freezes, eyes widening the slightest bit when he finally sees the man talking to him.

_Fuck_ .

The man smiles- easy, light, nonchalant in the way that was dangerous. That it looked so innocent,  _too_ innocent, that Levi knew there was so much more going on under the surface. He had on a polo from the golf shop, those expensive-ass golf shoes, and khakis, the blue of his shirt bringing out the  _inconsiderately attractive_ blue of his eyes.

Like he thought before:  _fuck_ .

Because, really, when it comes to his sexuality, Levi had always taken the 'I don't really care enough to try' sort of approach. He thought the stuff women went through was bogus, that some girls were pretty and some weren't and no amount of make-up would fix that, and he never really felt the urge to kiss any of them. Making out with guys in the back of clubs? Following one or two of them home? Fun, no strings attached, easy to walk away from. It got his blood pumping and he didn't have to worry about what he said, what he looked like. If it made him gay, okay, fine. Whatever.

But  _fuck_ , this guy was hot. Tall, built, was he an athlete? Model? His hair was disgustingly perfect and blonde, combed over like asshole but somehow it didn't ruin the image and god _damn_ , his  _chest. Fuck._ There was a serious problem when golf shirts fit well enough to be hot. Levi was having an issue with his higher thought processes and the guy was still looking at him with those fucking eyes and-

He laughs, and Levi is pretty damn sure that if there were any questions about his sexuality before this moment, they're all gone.

"-ing if anyone found a watch."

Levi blinks. "What?"

He laughs, rubbing the back of his neck, and all Levi can think about is how he needs to stop smiling. Never smile again. He can't think when this guy does that and if he is going to make it out of this conversation with any shred of dignity he needs to be able to  _think_ .

"I was here yesterday and I think I left my watch by the pool. I was wondering if anyone has turned one in?"

"I-"

"Mr. Smith!" Nile (the pool-side manager número uno) appears, then, stepping in next to the stand. There is a brief moment there where Levi wonders if there has ever been a time that so many people were back here at once before his thoughts shift right back to the man, Mr. Smith. He starts chatting with Nile, but the conversation is muted, so far down on the list of things Levi cares about in this moment that he doesn't try to listen.

Up until he hears his name being mentioned, which very quickly shakes him out of said trance.

"Levi, this is Mr. Smith. He's been a member of this club-"

"Nile, please." There's that laugh again, and Levi contemplates leaving. Right then. Walking right past the two and out the front gate and  _home_ so he doesn't have to be seen thinking about  _Mr. Smith_ and his fucking eyes and his  _mouth_ and-

"Levi is a new waiter for the summer, a friend of Hanjis."

Mr. Smith actually turns to face Levi, then, and he's sure he's stopped breathing. He can't tell if it's his imagination putting that darker shade to the taller man's eyes or if he's actually looking at Levi like that. It sends something like a shiver down Levi's back, shooting right down to his groin, and he swallows.

"It's nice to meet you, Levi. I'm Erwin."

There's a hand being offered and Levi just kind of stares at it, lifting an eyebrow back to Erwin before looking at Nile. Who, in that moment, looks like he could strangle Levi with his eyes alone.

"Shake his hand, Levi." The strain in Nile's voice makes it evident that Levi will get chewed out for this later, but Erwin moves first, clasping his hand on Nile's shoulder.

 "It's fine, Nile, calm down." Levi catches the glance Erwin shoots him - just a half second of eye contact - before Erwin nods and guides Nile off to the front desk area of the pool. Levi recognizes just how awkward and embarrassing the situation as a whole really was just a second or two later and sinks back down under the counter, his back against the stacked shelves as he contemplates just how awful this will make his summer.

Problem one: there is a hot member working at the club.

Problem two: Levi has never been this attracted to anyone in his entire life.

Problem three:

"Why are you hiding under there?"

Levi looks up at the underside of the small cover he has to the sun, mouthing  _fuck_ before he sighs. "What do you want, Eren?"

The short side of the story is that Eren was the kid of one of the long-standing members at the club, some doctor. His mom brought him and a couple of other kids to the pool almost every day, and while Levi could probably go the rest of his life without ever having to deal with any of those kids again, he can't really blame the woman for using the pool.

The more annoying side is that Eren was one of the few kids who wasn't scared of Levi, taking his general dislike for children as an invitation to come up and bug him as much as he liked. Nothing Levi did seemed to scare the kid away, and after the tenth day of failing to rid himself of Eren, he just started accepting that the kid wasn't going to leave him alone.

"I want to know why you're hiding."

Levi closes his eyes, tries to clear his mind of blonde hair and blue eyes, before he moves to stand.

"I'm folding towels."

"No you're not."

Eren's got his arms on his hips, his swim shirt about a size too big and his shorts reaching down almost to his ankles. He's dripping, probably just got out of the pool, and Levi tosses one of the towels at him. It hits him in the face - Eren's hand-eye coordination wasn't quite there yet - and Levi turns back to start stacking towels again.

"Where are Armin and Mikasa? Shouldn't you be with them?"

Erens voice is muffled by the towel as he rubs violently at his face and hair - "drying off" - but when he comes up for air Levi catches the last bit. "-oys on the playground."

Armin was Eren's best friend, so Levi assumed, a sickly little blonde kid with the worst bowl cut Levi has ever seen parents torture a child with. Levi wasn't sure if he was a member's kid or just Eren's best friend, but he was at the pool whenever Eren was, tagging along into any kind of mess Eren dragged him into. He was quiet, normally, but when that kid started asking questions there was no stopping him.

Mikasa, Levi wasn't sure. Hanji said something about how her parents used to also go to the club, but were in an accident a couple of years ago and that the Yeager family adopted her. She was weird, but in a way that Levi didn't mind. Silent unless she was reprimanding Eren, and dangerous if any kid tried to bully Eren or Armin. Levi had to break up an almost fight on the playground during his first week and is pretty sure there is still something left of the bruise she gave him grabbing his arm.

They were a strange trio, but they were also the only kids Levi didn't really mind. Some of the little shitheads here made him want to murder, those three just kind of made him sigh.

"Why were you talking to Mr. Erwin?"

"What?"

Eren points across the pool, where Levi could make out Erwin and Nile still chatting. "Mr. Erwin. You were talking to him. Did you know his Daddy is really important?"

It takes actual effort to stop staring, but Levi looks down at Eren anyway, contemplating wringing the kid out for information before he decides against it. "I'm sure he is."

He can ask Hanji later.

"No, really! You were hiding from Mr. Erwin, weren't you!"

Levi freezes mid-fold, wondering why the hell kids had to be so creepy, before Armin and Mikasa walk up, both clad in bathing suits.

" _Eren_ , you said you were going to help me build my city."

Mikasa stares up at Levi for a few moments, Levi staring back (their normal greeting), before her hand reaches out and grabs the back of Eren's swim shirt. "Mom said we have to put sunscreen on."

"No, but, I was talking-" Mikasa drags Eren off with her and Armin follows behind as they go back to their table, Levi watching them walk off before his eyes shift back to where he last saw Erwin. When he finds Erwin staring right back from across the pool, he freezes again, mind going blank.

Erwin nods, once, before he heads up the stairs that led to the clubhouse.

\----------------

 

"Of course I know Erwin Smith, are you kidding me?"

They're back in Hanji's car, heading home for the night, clocking out at 12:33 tonight. Levi feels a bit defensive at her reaction, arms across his chest.

"Sorry I don't know every asshole who pays money to go to this club."

Hanji laughs, one of those disbelief-meets-exhaustion sort of noises, as she turns out of the parking lot. "He's the son of one of the most  _influential_ assholes at Maria Heights, Levi."

"You mean rich."

"Yeah." Hanji quiets for a few moments, then, eyes on the road like she's trying to figure out what it is she wants to say to describe Erwin. Eventually she settles, shrugging. "His father owns one of the biggest law firms in the area. They say Erwin's going to take over in a few years when his old man retires. Mr. Smith's kind of stuck up, in that 'I earned the right to be an asshole' kind of way, but Erwin's not bad. Good sense of humor, decent tipper, doesn't have as many issues mentally. Why?" She looks over at him, curious.

Levi didn't realize he was holding his breath until he let it out in a puff, clicking his tongue against the back of his teeth to cover it up and turning to the window.

"No reason."

"Uh-huh."

They sit in silence for a minute or so before Levi cracks. "He came by looking for a watch. Nile looked like he was about to piss himself just standing next to the guy."

"That kind of makes sense. His dad's kind of the reason any of us have jobs."

"What?"

Hanji laughs. "Mr. Smith built the pool. Or- his money did, back when he was president. Ten years ago? Maybe nine."

Levi stares at Hanji for a second, then another, then turns back to the window and doesn't say much for the rest of the ride. Hanji steps in with her rambling, and he just tunes her out, mind reeling a bit with the information.

Erwin Smith was just about everything Levi hated about members at the country club. Too much money, too easy a life, a father who might as well _own_ the club itself, and he plays golf.

But _fuck_ he was hot.

And was, therefore, the problem.

Levi loses track of time somewhere around there, thinking about things he really shouldn't be thinking about while in Hanji's car, or in her presence in general, and doesn't bring himself back around until he feels a jerk at his shoulder and realizes it's been Hanji making that buzzing noise in the back of his head.

"You're really into this guy, aren't you."

Not a question, and Levi very quickly starts gathering himself up, trying to open the door while holding his back and his apron and everything else too. He almost makes it, too, without actually having to answer before her hand reaches around his forearm, _tight_.

"You do realize he's a member."

Levi jerks his arm away, but hovers half-in, half-out of the car door, eyes to the floorboard. Hanji sighs.

"You realize screwing a member will get you _fired_."

He snorts.  _It's not like I -_

"Will get  _me_ fired."

The silence, then, hangs a little differently than usual. Creeps up Levi's back and clings. When he looks up, Hanji is staring at him like he _actually means to do something_ and for the first time since seeing Erwin Smith, Levi realizes just how stupid this all is.

He clicks the back of his teeth again, climbing the rest of the way out of the car.

"I'm not dense."

Hanji relaxes into a smile, nodding as she moves the car out of park. "See you tomorrow, Levi!"

"Yeah, see you-"

The car drives off before Levi finishes, which he's thankful for, in a way- it just means he doesn't have to watch her stare back at him the moment he realizes he didn't, once, mention hating the job on the way home.

Or the way he's  _kind_ of looking forward to going tomorrow.

 _Fuck_.

 


End file.
